


The Way You Look Tonight

by Spacecadet72



Category: Knives Out (2019)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:40:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23225698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spacecadet72/pseuds/Spacecadet72
Summary: Benoit and Marta run into each other at a gala, and it's the first time either of them has seen the other dressed up.
Relationships: Benoit Blanc/Marta Cabrera
Comments: 15
Kudos: 110





	The Way You Look Tonight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Buhlee10](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buhlee10/gifts).



> This is a prompt fill for buhleesee on tumblr who prompted "You make me want things I can't have." 
> 
> Title comes from the Fred Astaire song of the same name.

Benoit walked into the ballroom at the hotel where the gala was being held, and resisted tugging at his collar. He was familiar with the feel of suits, but there was something about a tux that just felt that much more restricting. He didn't usually attend these sorts of things, but he had been invited by a client, who thought he might be able to gather more information from the suspects in a setting like this.

He had a fairly good idea of who he thought might have committed the crime, not a murder this time, but instead the theft of a valuable painting, but he needed proof that the culprit was actually responsible.

He looked around the ballroom, scanning the attendees to see if the suspect had arrived yet. His gaze moved past a beautiful woman in a deep red, off the shoulder gown, but he moved on, needing to see if--

Wait.

He looked back at the woman in the red dress, his eyes widening slightly as he realized he knew her. Marta Cabrera was standing across the room from him, and not in her usual sweater. Her hair was up in a graceful updo, tendrils of hair falling against her neck. The dress itself showed off a considerable amount of decolletage, and fit her frame perfectly. He had always thought she was a beautiful woman, but in this room, in that dress, she was resplendent.

His suit felt just that much tighter and more restricting as he took her in, all thoughts of the case pushed to the side. He took in a deep breath and forced his mind out of the gutter. Yes, she was beautiful, but that didn't mean he needed to stand here, drooling over her, just because she happened to be wearing a dress.

He scanned the room again, and not seeing his suspect, he wandered over to Marta. It would be remiss of him not to say hello to a good friend when he had the chance. It had been a while since they had seen each other last, and he had missed her presence. She had helped him on a few cases and they had become friends during Ransom's trial.

"Marta Cabrera, I guess I should have expected to see you here," he said, hoping his smile was friendly and not leering. He was not one of those lecherous old men who thought he could look at any woman he wanted in any way he pleased because he was a man.

"Benoit," she said, her voice filled with happy surprise. "I hadn't expected to see you either," she said, leaning in for a hug.

He made sure to only hold her for the proper amount of time. They had hugged before, this wasn't any different. "I take it you're here under your new duties as an heiress?" he asked, as he stepped back.

She nodded. "I don't always come, but with Harlan's resources, it can be helpful to network. Those contacts come in handy later with the charity work I'm doing."

He knew she was working with several charities and had set up a couple of her own, and was happy to hear that she was still pursuing that work.

"What brings you here?" she asked, looking up at him curiously. "I hadn't thought this would be your kind of event."

He chuckled. "You are right there, I don't usually like to get this dressed up, but I'm here for a client. They want me to do some more investigating while I'm here."

Marta stepped closer. "You look nice, for not wanting to get dressed up," she said, a soft smile on her face.

"Thank you," he said, with a dip of his head. "And you look beautiful, if I may say so."

Marta looked down at the dress, drawing his eye back away from her face, which just reminded him why he hadn't been looking there. "Thank you, I don't really like getting dressed up either, but it's for a good cause."

Benoit felt shame flood through him. She was only here so she could network and help people and he was ogling her in her dress. He moved his eyes back to her face, determined to keep them there.

I'm glad you're here, although I don't want to keep you from your work," she said, looking worried. "Should I let you go?"

 _No._ Benoit dismissed the errant thought to keep her close and shook his head. "I don't think my suspect is here yet," he said, looking around to double check, but he didn't see the woman. "Which is strange. It's not like her to be late to an event like this." His eyes narrowed, before he turned back to her. "Marta, if it's not too much to ask, would you mind assisting me this evening?"

A warm, happy smile bloomed across her lips, and she nodded. "I would love to, Benoit."

"It won't take away from your networking?"

She shook her head. "I was planning on talking to one particular person, and they let me know they're sick and not coming tonight. I came anyway because I was already ready to go." She shrugged. "I'd much rather help with a case than just stand around."

"Well, then, Watson," he said, thrilling at the idea of them working together again. "Let's go."

* * *

Hours later, after the thief was caught and in custody, Marta walked into her house, Benoit following behind her. She had invited him over, not wanting the night to end. It had been a while since they had seen each other last, and he looked so handsome in his tuxedo. He had seemed so disinterested in the way she looked, other than calling her beautiful, but that was only because she had complimented him first. Although she knew he wasn't interested in starting anything, she didn't want to let him go just yet.

She knew she should be grateful she had found a man who was so respectful and certainly other men were happy to make it known just what they thought of her in dresses like these, but she wanted him to like her, to want her.

It wasn't meant to be, and she needed to let it go. But that didn't mean she couldn't spend some time with a friend.

She slipped off her coat and turned to Benoit. "Do you mind if I change quickly? This dress isn't very comfortable." There was some part of her that had hoped drawing attention to the dress would make him actually look at her, but he kept his eyes on her face and simply nodded.

"I don't mind at all," he said, with a polite smile.

She knew she looked nice in the dress and makeup and hair, both professionally done, but he didn't take a second glance. She wasn't vain enough to think he had to like her or find her attractive, but it would have been nice for him to show her that he really did think she was beautiful.

This was ridiculous, she thought as she changed out of her dress and into sweatpants and a hoodie. She undid her hair and put it into a much looser bun and wiped off her make up. If he wasn't going to notice, she certainly wasn't going to stay uncomfortable.

She walked back downstairs and found him still waiting in the foyer, his back to her. He turned as he heard her steps, and she had to hold back a squeak of surprise. He had undone his bow tie and the top two buttons of his shirt, clearly in an attempt to get as comfortable as he could without being able to change.

She had thought he looked good in a completely done up tux, and he had, but this was something else. He looked dashing and at ease, and she needed to get a hold of herself.

"We'll probably be more comfortable in the kitchen," she said, leading the way. "It's too late for coffee, but I thought maybe some hot cocoa?"

"That sounds wonderful," he said as he followed her, and she felt a wave of self consciousness fall over her. Here he was looking incredibly handsome and sexy and she was in sweats.

But then, she'd already established that he didn't want her. Why did it matter what they looked like when nothing was going to happen?

She turned around as she reached the kitchen island and found him closer than she had anticipated. He stood mere inches away from her, and the air seemed to grow heavy between them, her mouth going dry.

His hand moved towards her face, before he seemed to catch himself and it fell back to his side.

"What is it?" she asked, resisting the urge to step even closer to him.

"You make me want things I can't have," he murmured, his voice filled with shame, his eyes not quite meeting hers.

Her eyes widened and she gestured to herself. "Even dressed like this?" she asked, sounding incredulous.

He barked out a laugh. "You looked gorgeous in that dress earlier, but I always feel that way about you."

"I thought you didn't want me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I thought that dress didn't do anything for you."

His eyes widened at that. "You were a vision earlier, I didn't want to leer."

"You weren't looking to be respectful?" she asked, a laugh slipping out of her. "I thought you didn't want me at all. I wanted you to look," she admitted, not taking her eyes away from his. She needed to know where this was going, needed to see him as she spoke what she wanted.

He moved a fraction closer to her, and she didn't move back, wanting him as close to her as he could be. "Allow me to disabuse you of the idea that I don't want you," he said, pausing to let her put a stop to this if she wanted. She kept silent, her eyes trained on his, wanting him so badly to show her how he felt.

He leaned in slowly and pressed a kiss to the side of her neck. Her head fell to the side to give him more access, and her hands gripped his lapels, needing something to hold onto. His arms went around her, pulling her even closer to him. He kissed slowly down her neck and back up again before murmuring in her ear, "Does that help clear things up?" he asked, his breath hot against her skin, his accent like melted honey, and she felt a little weak in the knees at both his words and the way he said them.

She nodded, wondering what he was going to do next, and completely and happily at his mercy.

His hand moved up to cup her cheek, and she leaned into him. To think she had thought just minutes ago that he didn't want her. The way he was looking at her, touching her now, there was no doubt of what he felt.

"I need you to know that this isn't just physical for me," he said, his voice a low murmur. "If that's a problem, I understand, but I love you, and don't want you thinking I don't."

"I love you too," she said, and then his lips were on hers. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she pushed herself as close to him as she could. His mouth was insistent against hers, and she met every demand with just as much passion and feeling as he gave her.

He pulled back, his breathing ragged, to look at her. She could see all the love he felt for her in his eyes and wondered that she had missed how he felt before. She leaned up to press a soft, brief kiss to his lips. It was the complete opposite of their first kiss, but just as precious, for the fact that she could do this now, whenever they wanted.

"I find that I am thankful to the thief earlier for giving me the opportunity to see you again," he said with a roguish grin.

She leaned up to press her forehead to his with a laugh. "I've never been more thankful for a gala."

He moved slowly to press one, two, three gentle kisses to her mouth before pulled back. "I've never been more thankful for you, Marta."

"I love you," she said again, if only because she could. A mischievous grin spread across her face as an idea came to her. "Next time, you'll have to be the one to help me out of my uncomfortable gown."

"Gladly," he said, his voice rough, and if Marta had thought his voice could do things for her earlier, this was something else.

Not wanting to be any farther from him than she needed to be, she pushed up to kiss him again.


End file.
